


sweltering

by kettsinn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Frottage, Harry Potter Next Generation, Heatwave Sex, Light Dom/sub, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 23:37:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18648436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kettsinn/pseuds/kettsinn
Summary: The heat outside is unbearable. It’s sweltering even by British standards, the kind of weather that makes every inch of her skin feel tight and flush.





	sweltering

The heat outside is unbearable. It’s sweltering even by British standards, the kind of weather that makes every inch of her skin feel tight and flush. 

Opposite her, Scorpius is clearly suffering from no such problem. Limbs stretched out and eyes closed, he looks satisfied and easy in a way that is so far removed from how Rose feels. Scorpius basks, lazily twirling blades of grass around his index finger while she can only bloody sit in the shade and feel herself burn. Being a Weasley is the worst.

Scorpius starts to hum softly and it’s a sound that fits with the calm sway and huff of the breeze.

Sore and sweating, Rose can’t stop herself from snapping. “Enjoying yourself, are you?”

“Mm,” he hums, eyes still closed. Selfish prick. It would have been smarter for them both to stay inside but when she’d said as much, Scorpius had looked so wounded that Rose hadn’t had the heart to argue about it. So, this situation is probably her fault.

“I think my nose is starting to burn,” Rose points out tartly. Her top is plastered to the hollow of her back and there’s a bead of sweat forming right across the top of her lip. Lip sweat is just slimy moistness and it makes her want to gag.

“Why don’t you put some sun cream on?”

He looks so fucking tranquil and, even though it’s really not attractive, Rose feels her temper rising at the sight of him, a flush of anger that moves up her spine like a wave. It’s not fair that the sun can bleed all over him and he’s just _fine_ about it, whereas the heat brings her out in a rash and turns her whole body into a sticky mess. She chews on her bottom lip and thinks about moving into the shade to get a drink, but then Scorpius starts humming again and she’s had enough.

“Oh yes, I wonder why I hadn’t thought about that,” Rose snaps back, all sarcasm, sounding exactly as testy and ridiculous as she feels. She adjusts the brim of her hat and stands up, angrily swiping grass off her jeans. “A great suggestion. Thank you very much.“

There’s a moment of silence, then a sigh, and Scorpius wraps his hand around her ankle, firm and warm. His blue shirt has ridden up, revealing the pale length and dark line of his stomach. "Do you want to go inside?"

"No,” Rose says, unmoving. "I just don't want to be out here."

“Why?” Scorpius looks up at her, squinting. His hair glows as a beam of sunlight passes out from behind a cotton-tuft cloud. He looks like a fucking angel. "You’re dressed for it.”

Bikini bottoms had seemed like a good idea earlier when the family owl had dropped off his letter: _today is glorious, let’s sunbathe together._ A letter like that has _implications_. So, Rose had chosen an easy item to take off and it was purely good luck that her legs would be out on full display. She hadn’t thought that they would _actually_ be sunbathing; why would anyone with red-hair and freckles voluntarily choose to sunbathe in August?

Rose feels herself prickle and the awful sensation of something trickling down her thigh makes her shudder. "I don’t understand how you can be so calm about this. It's a million degrees out here. If I had any balls, they'd be sticking to my thigh."

He chuckles lightly. "If it would take your mind off the heat, you're welcome to check mine."

“No,” she whines. “That won’t help. I’m just really fucking hot. And sticky and warm and gross and I think I'm starting to smell and–”

The look Scorpius gives her is inscrutable, almost curious. He presses his fingers tighter against her leg, rubbing against the bone of her ankle with his rough thumb. “You want to know why I like summer so much?”

Despite the heat, Rose feels her skin blush darker and she knows she must look ridiculous - time spent in front of the mirror after a scorching bath has taught her so - but he just keeps looking at her, into her, as she bites her lower lip and looks down at the grass. 

* * *

 

 

Their lips move against each other and Rose sucks in the plush fullness of Scorpius’ upper lip, his tongue tracing a strict path along the roof of her mouth. She feels herself get even wetter as his hands move down her spine and he grasps handfuls of her ass, moving down, down until his fingertips brush against her opening and her legs tremble.

“Undress me,” Rose says, demanding and breathless at once. “If you’re going to maul me, then it’s – _ah_ – the least you should do.”

Scorpius chuckles at that and teases the straps of her vest down her arms, pressing wide kisses up her neck as he goes. His breath is another wave of heat against her too-warm skin. “Be quiet or I’ll stop,” he whispers.

The threat of his teeth against her neck makes Rose want to roll her head to the side and beg him to bite hard enough to bruise. “ _Oh_ – don’t tell me what to do, _yes_ –”

“I said be quiet,” Scorpius says, voice harder and louder this time and as he speaks, he drags his fingers down the length of her spine in a slow, firm movement that sends heat pooling through Rose. It has her wriggling against his thigh, clit throbbing, desperate for the pressure.

“Come on,” Rose groans. The slickness of her body presses against the damp heat of his and she grinds down, eager for harder against her, more pressure and faster.

Scorpius is still wearing his jeans, but Rose is sure they must be getting wet, wetter even, from how hard he is against her. She can’t hold back from rocking herself against his crotch, a long sliding stroke that has his hands gripping at her waist and guiding her down against him.

The friction is stifling and satisfying at all once. Scorpius shudders, groaning softly against her throat as he presses a firm kiss against the line of her jaw.

Rose can’t help it, she laughs. They're ridiculous. She keeps on laughing until Scorpius suddenly moves, pulling her up and off him by the waist, his thick hands digging into her. It’s exciting how much taller he is than most of the men she knows, how ridiculous it is that he can be so submissive and small in person when he can just _move_ her like that.

The knowledge that chooses to submit to her, not now but sometimes, is a precious thing. A gift that Rose wants to protect and hide from the world so no-one can take him from her. Her Aunt would say it's ugly for her to want him so much. It should be shameful to feel so possessive over the man before her. (She doesn't care.)

Thoughts aside, Rose reaches down to thumb at the clasp of Scorpius' belt after he's finished pulling her top over her head and she slides the leather free while he watches on, patient and staring down at her with such focus. Even as she’s unzipping his jeans, he leans back with a calm smile on his face and toys at the sensitive skin at her waist as though they aren’t fucking about in the middle of a heatwave.

“You look happy,” she remarks, smiling broadly as Scorpius rises up on his knees so she can tug the fabric away from his hips. She presses a warm hand against his boxers, pleased to notice the dark stain on them.

Scorpius smirks and opens his mouth to say something sassy and rhetorical, no doubt, so Rose decides to take matters into her own hands. She shuffles back and wonders whether the awkwardness of picking a position gets better over time. His breathing changes, getting deeper, when she hovers just above his boxers, mouth open and wet. She glances up to see how bright Scorpius’ eyes look, then leans down and sucks him through the fabric, the rougher edge of the well-washed cotton at odds with the smooth, hot outline of his cock.

The faint smell of sweat, salt and that spiced deodorant he always wears. Hands cup gently at the back of her head and Rose licks up the outline of his shaft. A thrill of anticipation begins to unfurl at the base of her spine and she reaches up to hold his wrists in a firm, loose position, pinning them against the grass. When she moves up to nip along the line of his boxer elastic, Scorpius shudders beneath her and her mouth fills with salvia.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he says and shifts on his knees. “Rose, tighter.”

Rose lets her fingers unclench and tuts loudly, pulling back and giving him a firm stare. “You know what to say.”

And he blushes, which strikes Rose as odd and faintly charming that she can inspire him to turn red where the sun cannot. Slowly, so slowly, she brushes her hand against his cock and waits. He is hard, faster than usual.

“Tighter, please,” Scorpius mumbles. Rose can see that he feels uncomfortable and, sure, she knows that outside isn’t always easy for him. But his reluctance is frustrating, not adorable.

Rose sighs dramatically and lifts herself up onto one knee as if to get her top. “Well, then. I guess that’s that.”

“I said it!”

“No, darling, you mumbled something.”

Scorpius scowls and snaps, “Fine. _Please_ hold my wrists tighter, Rose, _please_.”

Clearly, he doesn’t feel comfortable asking when he’s outside. It would be easier for her to let it be, but Rose really can’t stand bratty behaviour and she doesn’t want to do _easy_. Rose loves a bit of tension, loves the push and pull of power between them both in bed, but being bratty is just being rude.

“Tell me precisely why I should with an attitude like that.”

“While I just sit here with my cock out?”

“If you can be rude from there, then I’m sure you can find it in yourself to be polite too. I suggest you get started before I decided that I need to find some shade.”

“Nice,” Scorpius huffs sarcastically and Rose looks down at him. There is something vulnerable in his expression still and...playful.

Rose taps her foot and looks towards the house. “Come on.”

“Please, could you hold my wrists tight,” Scorpius says after a pause. He looks at a point just beyond her shoulder and swallows. “Please.”

“Lovely.” Rose feels her shoulders drop and a tension she was unaware of, leave her body. She beams and is gratified to see the lines in Scorpius’ brow relax too. “Oh, go on then, I’ll allow it.”

“Shall I–”

“Actually, stand up,” Rose says, pulling at Scorpius’ hips. She pulls them back against the thick branch of the oak tree that had been shading them both and pushes him down until his cock is out, softened slightly from their conversation. She hums, satisfied with the sight of his pale skin against the deep brown of the bark. “And don’t you look gorgeous, baby, with your cock hanging out and drippy?”

Scorpius blushes deeper and blurts out, “Rose! You can’t just say things like that.”

“I’ll say exactly what I think, thank you.” Rose shifts until she is perched over his legs, hovering at the same height as his lips at last. When she leans forward and their humid breath mingles in the space between their open mouths, she realises exactly what she wants to see. “And I’ll see exactly what I’d like to see, won’t I?”

Scorpius nods and Rose notices that his eyes are focused on her mouth. He looks silly, a little cross-eyed, and she feels the familiar flush of desire for how much he wanted her, how well suited they are for one another. The desire to press hot, open-mouthed kisses against the side of his neck is overwhelming and he squirms when she licks down, along the cord of his throat.

Rose suckles at the lobe of his ear, then whispers, “I want to hold down your wrists and see you grind against me until you come.”

Scorpius groans quietly against her hair and then nods eagerly.

“Do you like the thought of that, baby?” Rose coos and reaches down to press her thumbs against his inner arms like a promise. “Well. Isn’t that lovely?”

“Yes,” Scorpius whispers.

His eyes flutter closed, and he gasps against her mouth when she curls her fingers, hard and mean around his wrists, holding him so tight that Rose imagines she can hear his bones creaking. She arches against him a little, just enough to add to the friction, and murmurs, “Begin.”

Rose flicks her tongue against Scorpius mouth, just a tease, and brushes herself against him when he thrusts upwards. Her skin feels warm and electric, a tingling that shoots in a straight line up from her cunt to her breasts and back down again. Her body feels like its vibrating or singing when he whimpers against her. Rose hums into his mouth and loosens her grip on his wrists for a moment, only to tighten them again viciously when his thrusts speed up.

Scorpius rocks forward and she’s achingly aware of the steel line of his cock. She thinks about how painful it must be to rub against the spandex of her pants and not be inside her, feels the pain herself in that bright feedback loop of desire that turns her to liquid.

“You have goosebumps,” Rose says, breath hitching at the sight of Scorpius’ lips. They look florid, turned a painful red where she has sucked his lips in and bit at them. She tuts, faux-disappointed. “It’s a shame they aren’t helping you to get off.”

“Let me,” Scorpius says. “I want to be inside you.”

“Do you, baby? You did ask _so_ nicely to have your wrists held earlier.”

His eyes look wide and earnest and a little wet. Rose feels urgently the strange and immediate desire to swallow this boy whole so that he can never escape her and there’s a piece of that delicious loveliness kept for her forever. She adores this Scorpius, messy and thirsty and shameless.

“Please, Rose,” Scorpius says, desperate. “ _Please_.”

It takes no little time for Rose to free herself and guide him into her, the slow friction of his head sliding home and then the slicker glide as she grinds down in time with his thrusts. _Merlin_ , it’s delicious. The powerful flex and stretch of her thighs, the sharp ache between her legs and Scorpius’ needy, half-choked hiccups drown out the rest of the world. Rose tightens her hold on his wrists until the pain must be blinding and his eyes begin to stream. He looks so lost in himself that Rose starts to babble about how proud she is of him, of them and how _precious_ he is to her, how _beautiful_ and _good_ he is to be this way.

“Rose,” Scorpius moans, a little broken, as though he is trying to convey something far greater in that one word.

“I’ve got you,” Rose breathes and tightens against him. “Come on, beautiful, let go.”

Scorpius’ lower back clenches against the drew, heat pools and floods and bursts through her as he comes, a deep heat and wetness that leaves her scrambling for her clit. Rose works herself roughly and moves forward to kiss Scorpius, all tongue and damp, shuddering breaths. Oversensitive, Scorpius whimpers. His lips are swollen and wet against her own.

It’s brilliant and sloppy. Scorpius pulls out and away from her; the slick drip of come that begins to leak out of her has Rose shuddering against his thigh. She feels fingers slide up inside her and _push_ until the bright sharpness of being pinched has her hurling into a wall of pleasure, slamming and falling at a speed that leaves her reeling.

“All right?” Rose asks breathily and Scorpius nods.

“Amazing.”

She starts to pet his hair and nip at the uneven stubble against his jaw. The feel of his come is a little uncomfortable – but in that horrible-delightful way. Scorpius brings his hands up against her back in long, clean lines; he’s shaking.

They’ll go inside soon – to clean and drink some water – and Rose will find him something to eat. Maybe they’ll have a nap. But, for now, in the shade, she thinks that the heat has become a little more bearable.  


End file.
